


Bad To Me

by psychecas (orphan_account)



Series: Harm and Boon [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, B) Ok here we go, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Collars, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Paddling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sub Castiel, Top Dean, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/psychecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I just need about 5k of bottom!sub!Cas trussed up in panties and love bites and bound and gagged with a cock ring on while Dean jerks him around by a leash and collar and tells him what a good, pretty little slut he is taking his cock.”</p><p>In which Dean buys Cas a present, Cas breaks a rule, and everyone gets what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad To Me

Dean likes to make Castiel pretty. Sometimes that means that he’ll dress him in the sharpest suit he owns, fix his hair up, and parade him around at a work function. Other times it means binding his arms behind his back from wrist to shoulder and painting his face with come. Tonight, though, he has something special planned. He takes Castiel out to dinner, setting a few things up in the playroom while his partner changes out of the sweatpants he’s been writing in all day.

The restaurant they go to isn’t exactly fancy, but it’s more high-end than Dean’s usual choice of a local diner or one of the many other restaurants scattered around the city. Castiel doesn't question it, not even to ask Dean who's going to take the check. They’ve been together for four years now and are as good as married, in Dean’s book.

The second that Castiel walks through the door when they return home, Dean pounces. He sidles up behind him as Castiel locks the door behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Cas freezes in surprise for a moment, but just as quickly relaxes against Dean’s chest.

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning in and brushing his mouth against Dean’s. Dean gives him a quick kiss before reaching behind Castiel and pulling the package that had come earlier they morning off one of the shelves behind them.

“You’re going to go into our room,” he murmurs, leaning into Castiel so he can feel him shiver when Dean pitches his voice just right. “And you’re going to put on your collar. Prep yourself. Then I want you to strip down and put these on. Meet me in the playroom when you’re done."

When Dean pulls away, Castiel’s pupils are blown wide. He takes the package from Dean’s hands eagerly and strides down the hall to their bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. Dean takes his time making his way to the playroom, knowing that Castiel won’t take his chances with rushing the prep once he sees what’s in the package. He takes the extra time to rummage in one of the drawers for Cas’s favorite toy: a curved vibrating plug with a curved end that never fails to rub against his prostate when he moves, slipping the remote into his pocket as he does so. By the end of the night, Dean won’t be surprised if Castiel hates the thing. He also takes out a cock ring, knowing that even though Castiel denies the fact that he enjoys orgasm denial, the reward for his partner at the end of the night is worth the torture of the ring.

Castiel comes in after several minutes, wrists crossed in the small of his back and eyes lowered submissively. Though normally he’d praise him for it, tonight Dean doesn’t care about any of that. His gaze is immediately drawn to the tight, dark blue lace that’s clinging to Castiel’s hips. The fabric is stretched around his hard cock, and the red, leaking tip is jutting out from underneath the waistband.

“Hands and knees,” Dean commands, popping open the first few buttons of his shirt. Castiel sinks to the floor fluidly, never once raising his eyes. Dean walks around him, taking in the gorgeous sight of Castiel’s firm, tan body wrapped up like a present in lacy blue panties.

“I saw these online a few weeks ago,” he says conversationally, petting a gentle hand through Castiel’s hair. “And I just couldn’t resist. I thought about what you’d look like with these on, kneeling in front of me.”

The panties aren’t extravagant; there’s no frills or holes or anything particularly risqué. Just the sheer lace that starts at the swell of Castiel’s ass and ends at the tops of his thighs, hiding absolutely nothing. Dean smirks and trails his fingers down Castiel’s neck, splaying them between his shoulderblades and pushing him down, down until Castiel is on all fours, presenting himself for Dean’s view. “I can’t exactly say I’m disappointed.”

Castiel straightens his shoulders when Dean says it, his lips quirking with pride. Dean kneels behind him and trails his hand down Castiel’s spine. “You like being pretty for me, don’t you, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” Castiel replies quietly, trying not to squirm when Dean’s hands move lower to squeeze the covered globes of his ass. He pulls the thin material aside briefly, letting his fingers trail over Castiel’s slick hole, dipping in the very tip of his index finger.

“Good boy, getting yourself all sloppy and wet for me. Did you want to make yourself come? Did you want to fuck yourself on your fingers until you shot all over your stomach?” Castiel shakes his head, a flush spreading over the back of his neck. Dean sighs before pulling his finger out and landing a firm smack to the back of Castiel’s thigh. Castiel gasps, jerking forward, but he quickly pulls himself back into position.

“Don’t lie to me, slut.” Castiel hangs his head in shame. Dean smiles and gently strokes over the red mark his hand left.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Castiel’s voice is low and roughened by arousal. Dean wants to fuck his throat raw and then make him _scream_.

“I hope not. I’ve got plans for you tonight.” With that, Dean lets the panties slide back into place and stands, reaching for the leash that’s hanging from one of the many hooks on the walls. He kneels down again, in front of Castiel this time, and tilts his sub’s chin up. Cas meets his gaze, submission and reverence etched into every feature of his face.

There are many things that Dean loves about Castiel. He loves the way Cas can and will drag him halfway across the city to point out a new beehive in their favorite park at ten at night. He loves the way Cas looks on his knees, hands behind his back and eyes raised as he sucks Dean down. He loves the way Cas can’t cook for shit unless it’s from a can or cardboard box. One of the things he loves most about Cas, though, is the way he looks when he’s wearing his collar.

The collar isn’t fancy. It’s a strip of thick brown leather, with a brass plate and a D-ring on the front. Etched onto the plate is Castiel’s name, then _Property of Dean Winchester_. He’d bought it for Castiel a month into their relationship, then waited another two to give it to him. The leather is worn now, and cracked in some places, but it’s no less sturdy. The first and only time Dean had offered to get it replaced, Castiel hadn’t spoken to him for two days.

It fits comfortably around Castiel’s neck, no tighter than the day he had given it to him, and every time he puts it on Dean can see the worry and stress ease from the lines beneath Castiel’s eyes and the planes of his forehead. His hair covers the back of the leather, but he refuses to get it cut because the only thing he loves more than sucking Dean down is the way Dean will grab his hair and fuck into his face when he thinks Castiel isn’t doing a good enough job.

Sometimes, Dean bites into the collar so hard that if it was Castiel’s skin he’d draw blood. Other times he comes on it, painting the leather white and then licking it off, feeding it to Castiel with his tongue. Sometimes he’ll leash Castiel and pull on it while Castiel rides him, and as he gets closer to orgasm he’ll tug harder and harder until Castiel is close to passing out but still doesn’t safeword because he loves it, loves the pressure on his neck, reminding him that he’s owned, that every part of him is Dean’s and always will be. That’s why Dean loves the collar so much. He doesn’t love it nearly as much as Castiel does, though.

Now, Dean clips the leash to the D-ring and presses a gentle kiss to Castiel’s forehead. “Come on, pet. On your knees”

He leads Castiel over on his hands and knees to the plush leather armchair settled in one of the corners of the playroom, telling him to wait before retrieving the plug and ring. Without a word, he pulls the panties aside again and slowly fingers Castiel open, feeling around his already loose rim and carefully avoiding his prostate until he’s ready to take the plug.

As soon as Dean starts to press it into him, he can tell that Castiel knows exactly what toy it is. His breath catches and his hips push back a fraction of an inch, only to be stopped by a warning tap to the side of his ass.

“Stay still,” Dean reprimands, sliding the plug in fully and tapping on the flared base. Castiel gasps, his hands curling into fists against the carpet. He doesn’t move though, even when Dean grips the plug and idly pumps it in and out of him a few times, just to see if he can make Castiel squirm. “Good slut.”

Castiel whines at the praise and Dean chuckles, grabbing the ring and reaching under him to pull down his panties just enough so that he can work it on. Castiel whines again, alarmed this time, and Dean fights the urge to laugh again.

“Trust me, sweetheart, by the end of the night you’ll be thanking me.” Castiel doesn’t seem convinced, but Dean just pulls the panties up again and stands, tugging gently on Castiel’s leash so that the boy crawls with him, moving carefully to try and relieve the pressure on his prostate. Dean sinks down into the armchair, undoing his fly and pulling out his half-hard cock.

“Kneel,” he orders, watching as Castiel’s eyes flick upwards for a moment before he complies, settling back on his thighs and placing his hands obediently behind his back. Dean grins down at him and fists a hand in his silky hair, tugging him forward. Castiel goes willingly, parting his lips and taking the head of Dean’s cock in his mouth.

Dean will never get used to this. The wet heat of Castiel’s mouth is the closest he’s ever going to get to heaven, even though half of the time he worries that he’s going to end up choking his partner. Cas loves it though — he’ll spend hours on his knees keeping Dean’s cock warm, and even when he’s not wearing his collar he loves to do down on Dean. Today is no different; even with Dean’s hand fisted in his hair Cas is still straining forward, lapping at Dean’s cock with barely restrained enthusiasm.

“You’re gagging for it, aren’t you?” Dean muses, pulling Castiel down until his nose is buried in the thatch of hair at the base of Dean’s cock, any resistance he meets from Castiel’s gag reflex ignored in favor of burying himself to the hilt in the tight heat of Castiel’s mouth. His sub’s eyes dart upwards in agreement, his cheeks hollowing out obscenely as he waits for Dean to let him breathe. After several long seconds, Dean finally pulls Castiel back and holds him a few inches away from his cock. “Do you want my cock, slut?”

Castiel nods enthusiastically, shifting ever so slightly. His mouth drops open even further when the bulbed head of the plug presses up against his prostate, and he lurches forward slightly, restrained by nothing but Dean’s grip on his hair. Dean smiles and lets him go, watching as Cas sags down minutely only to sit back up as straight as a rod when the plug shifts again. His fingers are fluttering against his thighs, a few inches down from the end of his panties, and Castiel’s downcast gaze fixates on the movement when Dean strokes himself himself a few times, smearing precome down his shaft.

“I think you should show me how much you love my cock, pet,” Dean murmurs, setting aside the end of the leash for a moment, reaching into his pocket and drawing out the remote to the vibrator currently nestled against Castiel’s prostate.

“Yes sir,” Cas murmurs, head still bowed and body rigid, trying to stay as still as possible.

“Get to it then,” Dean snaps, impatience starting to creep up on him as he releases his grip on Castiel’s hair. Immediately, Cas’s mouth is on him again, bobbing up and down in a rhythm too quick to be too comfortable. His tongue swirls around the head of Dean’s cock as he withdraws, and Dean has to fight back a moan. After a few moments, he fingers the remote in his hand, then pushes the dial up to the first setting.

As soon as the buzzing starts, Castiel gags around the cock in his mouth. His eyes start to water and his hips push down, trying to grind down onto the plug. Dean grabs Castiel’s jaw with one hand, forcing his pet’s gaze up to meet his eyes.

“Do your job, slut. Your pleasure doesn’t matter here.” Cas’s eyes are shining now, but he just nods. Satisfied, Dean lets him go. After barely a second of hesitation, Castiel returns to sucking his cock. This time, Dean lets him do all the work. Castiel shoves his head down eagerly, choking himself on Dean’s cock until tears are leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Dean wipes them away tenderly, fingers tracing down his cheeks. The touch only spurs Cas to work harder, breathing through his (admittedly weak) gag reflex until Dean is completely enveloped in the warm, tight heat of Castiel’s throat.

“Good boy,” he groans, threading one hand through the soft strands of Castiel’s hair. Cas stills, his eyes fluttering shut at the praise and squeezing out another tear. Dean lets this one fall, leaving a salty track down Castiel’s face and stopping at the corner of his mouth, which is stretched obscenely wide around Dean’s dick. With his free hand, Dean toys with the dial of the remote, playing with the idea of turning it up a setting. His decision is made for him when Castiel pushes his head down just slightly and lets out the filthiest noise Dean’s ever heard out from around the cock in his mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean swears. His hips jerk up, the tip of his cock hitting the back of Castiel’s throat and making him choke and splutter, and his hand twitches, amping up the intensity of the vibrator another three settings. Cas, who had been trying to pull back to catch his breath, freezes. His eyes fly open, pupils completely encasing his iris until Dean can barely see the blue. Castiel is trembling along with the vibrator now, his whole body seemingly focused on not moving an inch as he slowly gets used to the new stimulation. He doesn’t make a sound, except for a single whimper that comes out sounding like he’d gotten punched in the gut.

Dean smirks down at him, just enjoying the view. Cas’s tongue flutters underneath the head of his cock, and the teasing keeps Dean just on edge enough that he doesn’t grab Castiel’s hair or leash again and just tug him back down. After a moment, Cas does that all on his own, earning himself a pleased hum.

“Do you like that? Knowing that that toy can buzz away all it likes in that slutty little ass of yours and you’re never gonna come from it?” Dean teases, scratching his nails along Castiel’s scalp. It’s a rhetorical question; he knows that Cas is practically in agony right now and he doesn’t want to hear his pet lie to him like Dean knows he would. Instead, he lets his eyes close and focuses on the bliss of Castiel’s mouth around him.

Dean’s spent hours with Castiel on his knees in front of him, sometimes making him actively work to get him off, other times having Castiel hold his limp dick in his mouth until Dean felt the urge to fuck it again. Tonight though, he has other plans, and getting off in Cas’s mouth is not one of them. So he reluctantly tugs Castiel off of him, shoving him away gently but firmly.

Castiel is still in position, his arms behind his back and weight settled evenly on the back of his calves. Every so often, his hips will give an aborted twitch as he tries for a fleeting second to grind down on the toy inside of him. Precome drips from the head of his dick, peeking out from under the waistband of his panties and standing red and angry against the toned muscles of Castiel’s stomach. Dean takes a moment to admire the beauty of his sub, eyes lowered deferentially and hair sweeping across his forehead. Castiel almost seems to be glowing — he’s in his element right now, and both of them know it.

“Such a pretty little slut,” Dean murmurs affectionately. Cas’s lips twitch up in a barely-there smile, his eyes still lowered deferentially to the ground. Dean pockets the remote the the vibrator again, carefully tucking himself back into his pants. The leather of the leash is comfortable in his hand as he stands and leads Castiel over to the large, extravagantly furnished bed tucked into the corner of the playroom. He makes Castiel crawl in front of him, admiring the sway of his pet’s ass, still covered by dark blue lace. The stifled moans are an added bonus — Cas hasn’t been given permission to make noise yet and he’s doing the best he can to keep in his little moans and whimpers as his movement jostles the buzzing toy nestled between his cheeks.

“Good boy,” Dean reassures him as they reach the edge of the bed. A comforting hand smoothes through Castiel’s hair as Dean perches himself on the mattress, pausing to take in the sight before him. Castiel’s face is flushed, his hair a wreck, and his lips chapped and swollen. His eyes are shining and the tear tracks on his face stand out beautifully. Dean pats the space next to him and releases his hold on his pet’s hair.

“On your stomach, baby. That’s it, good slut.” Cas spreads himself out on the bed, hands under his chin and legs slightly parted to show off his best asset. His eyes clench shut at the new pressure on his cock, the smooth blanket giving just enough friction to work him up. Dean smirks and stands up, pacing the room and eyeing the expanse of paddles, whips, floggers, and canes on the shelf next to the bed. His hand slips into his pocket, barely hesitating before turning the vibrator up to its highest setting.

The reaction is instantaneous. Castiel seizes up for a single moment before jerking and muffling a pained scream into the mattress. His hips push down, adding friction to the overwhelming stimulation of the plug buzzing madly against Castiel’s prostate. After a few more seconds, Cas starts thrashing, his body on the tip of orgasm and yet denied the relief it craves. Dean crosses the room quickly, pinning Castiel’s arms to his sides and letting him ride out the sensation.

When Cas stops jerking, Dean lets him go hesitantly, mindful of the wet sobs Castiel is heaving into the pillow beneath him. He turns the vibrator off and watches silently as Castiel shakes, waiting for the crying to stop and for Castiel to come back to himself. While he waits, he strokes a hand down Castiel’s smooth flank, then starts rubbing his back softly until Cas stirs under his hands.

“Well, look who’s back,” Dean murmurs into his ear. “You know, I’d had such high expectations. I figured that after all this time you’d be able to follow two simple instructions. Do you remember what our rules are, Castiel?”

When Cas takes a moment too long to answer, Dean stops petting him and instead lands a hard slap against the crease between Castiel’s thigh and his ass, right over the hem of his panties. “What are our rules, Cas?”

“Don’t move, make noise, or come without permission,” Castiel recites, his voice hoarse and shaky. Dean moves his hands back to Cas's shoulders, his touch deceptively soft and gentle.

“That’s right, sweetheart. And what did you just do, hmm?”

“I...I moved and you had to hold me down. And I screamed, sir.” Castiel’s voice is trembling more now, regret and apology staining his tone.

“Good, Cas. So what do you think we should do about that?” Dean brushes Cas’s hair away from where it’s covering the leather of his collar.

“I think I need to be punished, sir,” Castiel answers like the well-trained pet he is, unconsciously leaning into the touch of Dean’s fingers carding through his hair. Dean smiles gently, scratching his nails along Castiel’s scalp.

“Since you were so good for me before this, I’m going to let you choose what I use on you, sweetheart.”

“I’d like the paddle, sir,” Castiel decides after a moment, pulling slightly away from Dean and resuming his rigid position from earlier, seemingly determined to bear his punishment stoically.

“Of course you would,” Dean teases, getting up and retrieving one of their paddles; a simple wooden instrument that’s light and flexible enough to leave Castiel wincing when he sits down for the next few days. “Over the edge of the bed. You get twenty strokes and I want to hear you count them.”

Castiel scrambles to get in the new position, bending over the edge of the bed and presenting his lace-covered ass to Dean. He almost regrets reaching for the flimsy fabric and pulling it down to the tops of Castiel’s thighs, but when he sees the bare, tanned skin of Castiel’s ass, he figures that he can pull them back up when he’s done and have the best of both worlds.

Castiel is still hard, Dean notes as he waits for his sub to get ready. Cas’s hands flex in the sheets before he spreads his fingers and just lets them rest next to his head. Dean raises the paddle then and brings it down with a sharp crack against Castiel’s left butt cheek. Cas gasps but doesn’t move, and after a moment shakily gives Dean his count: “One, sir.”

“Good.” Dean swings the paddle again and again and again until Castiel’s ass is bright red and welting and his own arm is sore and both their cocks are leaking into their respective clothing.

“Good,” he repeats as he finally drops the paddle and runs his hands over the skin that’s practically radiating heat. Cas arches into the touch, letting out breathy little moans as Dean maps the new welts with his fingers. Dean wants to chastise him but can’t bring himself to, not when the noises Castiel is making sound so pretty half-muffled into the sheets. Dean taps lightly on the base of the plug still nestled between Cas’s cheeks, and the man jerks forward.

“Stay still,” Dean growls before pushing Castiel back up on the bed, relishing the way his sub lets himself be manhandled until he’s sitting on Dean’s lap, back to chest with Dean against the headboard. As Dean pulls Cas’s panties back up over the red skin of his ass, he sucks biting kisses into his neck and grinds up into him, the friction through Dean’s slacks making Castiel moan. Dean gives him a light swat to the top of his thigh for that, but thinks better of it when a well-timed thrust knocks the plug and Cas fucking _whimpers_.

“Make as much noise as you like,” Dean concedes as he goes back to sucking bruises into Castiel’s neck and shoulder. Castiel moans when Dean bites down on the meat of his shoulder, a mark that will definitely bruise.

“Please, Sir,” Cas gasps when Dean’s hands settle on his lace-covered hips and pull him down against his cock. “Please, can I move?”

“Well, since you’ve already done it without permission today, I guess you can. But if you touch your cock, slut, you’re going to wish you’d gotten away with just a spanking,” Dean promises lowly, his voice a husky growl next to Castiel’s ear. At this, his pet starts grinding down against him, the plug jostling inside against him at each move, and this hadn’t been part of Dean’s plan for the night but he’s _definitely_ not complaining.

“You want something else, whore?” Dean taunts, one of his hands leaving Castiel’s hips to draw out the remote to the plug. Dean leans over as Castiel realizes what it is he’s holding, watching his eyes widen and his breath stutter. “You think you can handle it?”

“Please,” Castiel breathes again, his cock jerking in his panties and his pupils blowing just a little bit wider. “God, yes, _please_.”

“Good slut,” Dean praises him. With one last kiss to Castiel’s jaw, he turns the vibrator back on and watches as Cas reacts more beautifully than he could have imagined.

Castiel has obviously recovered from his first orgasm-that-wasn’t, and now he’s pushing back down into the vibrations with obvious greed, keening his pleasure to the room and fisting his hands behind him in Dean’s shirt. It’s absolutely beautiful, and Dean tells him as much as Cas rides the toy and, by extension, Dean’s own cock.

“Look at you, so desperate for it. You look so gorgeous right now, riding that toy like it’s my cock, sweetheart. I bet you want to come, don’t you? I bet you want me to take that ring off your pretty little cock and let you come on that vibrator. Would you rather come on my cock or that toy, slut?” He wraps Cas’s leash around his hand and tugs, cutting off Castiel’s air for a brief second before letting him go so he can answer.

“Your cock, sir, please, I want you to fuck me, fill me up, please—” Castiel begs desperately, twisting in Dean’s lap.

“All right, whore, I get it.” Dean smirks against Castiel’s smooth skin before reaching under the waistband of Cas’s panties, flicking the vibrator off, and removing it with nearly clinical speed and precision.

“Up,” he orders, tapping Castiel’s thigh. Castiel raises up obediently onto his knees and Dean takes the time to remove the cock ring, avoiding Cas’s cock as much as possible. 

“Undress me.” Castiel turns around quickly and starts pulling frantically at the buttons of Dean’s shirt with an urgency Dean loves to watch. His fingers trip on the last one, so Dean helps him out by undoing it and tossing the shirt away, glad to see it gone. Castiel starts on his pants then, carefully undoing the zipper and tugging both Dean’s slacks and boxers down to free his leaking erection. Dean groans at the freedom and kicks off his socks and shoes, tugging Castiel back down onto his lap by the leash, gripping his ass tightly and running his fingers over the smooth fabric. Pulling the lace aside, Dean reaches next to the bed to grab the ever-present bottle of lube, slicking himself up before pulling Castiel further up on his lap so that Cas is straddling his cock, facing Dean.

“Oh,” Castiel breathes softly, his fingers falling on his own thighs as Dean slides his panties to the side and presses into him, his channel still tight despite the sizable plug he’s been wearing. Dean groans as he takes in the sight of his pet’s hole stretched around the width of Dean’s cock. Castiel’s eyes are half shut as he sinks himself down, his mouth open and head tossed back, aided by the insistent tug of the leash in Dean’s hand.

“Fuck,” Dean swears, the feeling of Castiel hot and tight around him almost too much. He presses his head against Cas’s chest as he takes a moment to get used to the sensation, Castiel trembling against him as they both adjust.

Castiel moans when Dean starts rocking his hips, little, breathy pants that heat the skin of Dean’s shoulder as he fucks into the willing man above him. Dean runs his free hand down Cas’s back,  toying with the lace covering the reddened skin of Castiel’s ass. His thrusts become deeper, his grip on Castiel’s leash tightening until the man has no choice but to fuck himself down on Dean’s cock, his moans becoming louder as he moves.

“Is this what you want?” Dean growls. “You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow, slut?” Castiel makes some vague noise of assent, something that could be ‘Dean’ or ‘please’, and Dean grins viciously against his collarbone, admiring the red makes scattered across his sub’s neck. 

_This is what victory feels like_ , he thinks as he thrusts up into Castiel, the man’s body convulsing each time Dean brushes against his abused prostate, his cock dripping hard and wet between their stomachs, on the brink of orgasm but holding himself back, holding back because Dean commanded it. Dean’s murmuring out obscenities and filthy praise as he moves and Castiel is babbling nonsense back at him, moans and curses and words of gratitude as Dean pounds into him, the collar around his neck restricting his airflow and marking him as owned. 

“So good for me,” Dean praises as his thrusts get erratic. The pleasure is starting to become overwhelming and he lets himself give into it, digging his fingernails into Cas’s bruised flesh as he buries himself inside that welcoming hole over and over again. “So good, but you can’t come yet. Not till I say.”

When Cas cries out, his nails biting crescent moons into the meat of Dean’s shoulder, Dean finally comes, sheathing himself to the hilt in the heat of Castiel’s body and spilling deep. Cas sobs, his whole body clenching as he wills himself not to come, his channel milking Dean’s cock and dragging the dregs of his orgasm out of him. Dean sags back against the headboard, dropping the leash and bringing both arms up to wrap them around Castiel’s trembling body. He threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of Castiel’s neck and presses the man’s forehead to his chest, holding him as Castiel cries for the second time that night, nothing but his own willpower and his desire to please Dean holding him back this time.

“How do you want to come?” Dean asks after he’s caught his breath, slipping out of Castiel’s hole as his cock softens, followed by as sticky trail of come. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and slumps to the side, landing on his back next to Dean.

“Your mouth?” Cas offers hopefully, his face stained with tear tracks. Dean smiles and leans down, mustering up the strength to straddle Castiel and kiss the salt from his cheeks, slowly moving lower until Cas is squirming against him, Deans’ lips pressed to his navel and his fingers inching the lace panties down until they’re stretched between Cas’s thighs.

“Please,” Castiel begs. “Oh, Dean, please.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Dean murmurs gently, before licking a wet stripe across the head of Castiel’s cock. Cas’s hips buck up and Dean presses him down with soft hands against his hipbones. It only takes Dean swallowing Castiel down and bobbing his head once, twice, three times before Cas is tugging at his hair and warning Dean in garbled sentences that he’s going to come. Dean just plucks Castiel’s hands from his hair and twines their fingers together, flicking his tongue under the head of Castiel’s cock and swallowing when Cas convulses and comes down his throat.

When Dean looks up, still on his hands and knees half on top of Castiel, his sub has sunk against the soft pillows of the bed and is breathing shallowly, his eyes shut and his fingers clenched in the sheets. Dean crawls up and kneels next to him, uncurling Castiel’s fingers and gripping both of his hands tightly in his own.

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks softly, his thumbs stroking Castiel’s fingers where they’re clenched tightly around his own. Castiel shakes his head, curling up into himself and tucking his head against his chest. Dean lets go of one of his hands to pull up the sheet folded at the end of the bed, covering Castiel’s trembling body.

“Hey, I’m going to let go of your other hand now, all right? I’m going to get you something to drink and then I’ll be right back, I promise. Is that okay with you?” Castiel hesitates, then nods. Dean places Cas’s willing hand back down and gets up, walking over to the small refrigerator and taking out a bottle of orange juice, some water, and a small bunch of grapes. He returns to Castiel’s side quickly.

When he gets back to the bed, Castiel’s eyes are open. He watches Dean carefully as he twists the top off the juice, then parts his lips obediently and swallows when Dean tips some down his throat.

“Do you want me to carry you to bed or can you walk?” Dean asks, brushing Cas’s hair away from his face as he holds the bottle to Castiel’s lips again. Castiel swallows and hesitates, his eyes flicking from Dean to the shut door of the playroom.

“Carry me?” He asks, his voice rough. Dean smiles and drops a kiss to Cas’s forehead, offering him the water, juice, and grapes.

“Hold these for me, sweetheart.” He gathers Castiel in his arms then, pulling off the sheet and tugging off the panties that had slipped down to Castiel’s ankles. In one quick movement, he rises, walking as quickly as he can with his boyfriend in his arms until he reaches their bedroom, depositing Castiel on the bed and nudging the door shut with his foot.

He walks into the bathroom, getting a cloth damp, then returns to clean Castiel up, wiping the come off of the back of his thighs and gently brushing it over his sore hole. Castiel whimpers and clutches at the sheets, but he doesn’t ask Dean to stop. As soon as he’s done, Dean puts away the cloth and sits down on the bed.“Do you need anything right now?”

“Hold me,” is all Castiel says. Dean smiles and grabs two pairs of boxers, sliding a pair on and working the other up Castiel’s legs, being careful when he pulls the material up the welts on Cas’s backside. They worm under the covers, Castiel settling back against Dean’s chest and letting Dean feed him grapes, taking occasional sips of water or juice.

“Are you going to be okay for tonight?” Dean asks, kissing his neck lightly. Castiel grips his hand again and nods, snuggling deeper into the mattress as Dean turns out the light.

“Love you,” Cas mumbles into the darkness of the room. Dean grins and presses another kiss to his boyfriend’s neck, stroking his thumb over Castiel’s wrist.

“Love you too, Cas.”


End file.
